


Skirmish at the Cafe

by SenatusConsultum (TheSenator)



Series: Skirmish at the Cafe [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Bondage, Dominance, F/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-04-29 19:03:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5139095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSenator/pseuds/SenatusConsultum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You come back to the Café Théâtre after a long mission to discover that something is amiss, but soon learn that Arno has made plans for your arrival. (Inspired by fablesfromthecreed‘s Kink Preferences and a particular line of Arno's.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ambushed

_Home at last_ , she thought as she crossed into the Île Saint-Louis district and the bright facade of the Café Théâtre came into view. She had been away on a three-week mission and was looking forward to seeing her fellow club members. The men and women of the Café’s social club felt more like family than any of the other assassins in the French Brotherhood. She smiled as she wondered what had happened in her absence. Maybe Arno had finally figured out all of the Nostradamus riddles and unlocked the cage that held Thomas de Carnellion’s armor.

_Arno_. She glanced up at the Café’s second story, hoping to catch a glimpse of him standing on the balcony outside his room. She frowned when she saw that it was vacant. Yes, she had missed all of her fellow club members, but she had to admit that she was rushing to get back to the Café to see Arno. He was already away on a mission when she had to leave, and it had been more than a month since they’d seen each other. If she hadn’t been away for so long, she would just climb onto the balcony and wait for him, but after three weeks away, she needed to announce her return. She walked into the Café and sat down in a dark corner to wait for her Mentor.

Her mentor was Madame Charlotte Gouze, the manager of the Café itself. The Café served as a front for the French Brotherhood–thanks to Mme Gouze and Arno, it had become a valuable resource for both gathering intelligence and raising revenue for the Order.

Mme Gouze had brought [Y/N] to the Café to train her in various intelligence-gathering techniques. Having a female Mentor offered a distinct advantage: Mme Gouze knew how to manipulate the pride of men for her own purposes–and the Templars were very proud men indeed-–so she passed along that knowledge in addition to training her in the more conventional methods. She and Mme Gouze had become very close, and Y/N was sure that Madame was grooming her to take over as manager of the Café one day–- _especially_  now that she had been introduced to Arno.  
  
[Y/N] could remember the night they met in vivid detail. She had just returned to the Cafè from a week-long mission, and Mme Gouze had assigned her to tail a man who had been snooping around to make sure that he didn’t find any of the tunnels or hidden rooms on the property.   
  
The first few days of the assignment went as expected, though she realized that Madame had omitted some information about her target. For one thing, he seemed to be almost too familiar with the property; and for another, he was  _very_  attractive. The man was graceful and lean, with dark hair, inquisitive brown eyes, and full lips, which he often quirked in a cheeky, lopsided smile. He was clever, too–always ready with a witty retort for any patrons who made the mistake of challenging him. [Y/N] found herself completely captivated by the mysterious man, and followed him as closely as she could without being detected. She was only supposed to observe him and was ordered not to intervene unless it became absolutely necessary.  
  
 _He_  intervened first. On the third night of the mission, he spotted her reflection in a suit of armor as she peeked around a corner of the second story balcony. He chased after her outside and–-to her surprise-– _followed her up the facade of the building and onto the roof_. She leapt through the window of the Legacy Room and hid behind a mannequin wearing Ezio Auditore’s robes. She took a quick inventory of the supplies she had with her and stole one of Ezio’s throwing knives just in case. (She was sure that Ezio would understand, given the circumstances.)

The man arrived shortly thereafter, looked around briefly, and stalked off into the training room. She waited a few minutes and followed after him. She was scolding herself for being detected when he grabbed her from behind a statue, held her by the wrists, and pinned her against the wall.   
  
“Who are you, and why have you been following me?!” he growled, their noses almost touching. She glared at him and tried to break free from his bruising grip, but he ground his hips against her and held her wrists more tightly. She was trapped.

She took a deep breath and her training from Madame Gouze started to kick in. She looked into his eyes coyly, ready to turn on the charm, but her mind went blank. He was even more stunning up close. He had a light layer of stubble that highlighted his cheekbones and framed his lips, and a fine scar that crossed the bridge of his nose and left cheek. She bit her bottom lip absently as she looked at his mouth, then looked back into his eyes. His gaze had changed–less angry, but still intense. Almost  _hungry_.   
  
Suddenly, the sound of applause echoed through the training room as a familiar voice said, “Not bad, Arno! Although, that’s quite an unusual way to incapacitate an attacker. Not all of them will be as lovely as [Y/N], after all.”

Master assassin and weapons instructor Augustin Grisier approached them as the man– _Arno_ , she noted–looked at him and back to her, obviously confused. He loosened his grip just enough for her to break free, and she quickly drew Ezio’s knife on him, still unsure about who he was and what was going on.  
  
“It’s okay, Y/N,” Grisier said, slowly taking the knife from her. “He’s with us. Bellec and the others gave him the Café while you were gone. I wanted to gauge his skills, and Madame Gouze suggested having you tail him since you hadn’t met him yet.”  
  
“So this was all a training exercise?” she asked, bewildered and a little angry.  
  
“Yes–though we didn’t think it would go on this long. You stayed undetected in close quarters over the course of three days; that’s truly impressive! Charlotte and I were worried we’d have to find a way to force you two into a confrontation.” Grisier beamed and her anger subsided; he always knew how to defuse her temper.  
  
Grisier continued. “I suppose I should make a formal introduction. Y/N, this is Arno Dorian. He’s the new owner of the Café Théâtre. Arno, this is Y/N. She is Mme Gouze’s protégé. I imagine that you two will be working closely together in the upcoming weeks and months.”   
  
Arno grinned and extended his hand, and she took it. "It’s nice to meet you, Mademoiselle.” He hesitated, and then added sheepishly, “I’m sorry about your wrists.”  
  
She shrugged and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure they won’t bruise too badly. Besides, I’ve had worse.”

—  
  
A crash of plates falling to the floor brought her out of her daydream and back to reality. She grinned as she resumed her memories of that night. Yes, she’d suffered several injuries and bruises before then, and many since–sometimes from Arno himself. She stirred in her seat, thinking fondly of the bite marks and bruises he’d left on her over the course of their relationship. The passion they had for one another was almost brutal in its intensity. Arno loved to dominate her, and she loved giving up control and submitting to him. He knew she trusted him completely, and he reveled in it.   
  
Their affair had begun quickly, though not unexpectedly–both she and Arno realized early on that Madame Gouze and Master Grisier were playing matchmaker, and neither she nor Arno protested their efforts. Truthfully, the two of them had felt a spark the night they met, but they preferred to let their Mentors credit themselves for their coupling.  
  
 _Speaking of my Mentor…_  She looked around and realized that Madame Gouze still hadn’t arrived.  _Where could she be? She never keeps me waiting this long, especially when she knows I haven’t seen Arno yet._  
  
She decided to check the club room–Mme Gouze rarely went down there, preferring to keep an eye (and ear) on the Café’s patrons, but where else could she be? Y/N walked noiselessly to the back of the Café and down the stairs into the social club room. It was empty.  
  
“Hello? I’m back! Madame Gouze? Philippe?” she called out into the silence.  _Where is everyone?_ She was confused and getting worried; Philippe and a few of her brothers were almost always in the club room playing chess or planning heists. She’d never seen the club room completely empty like this–it was almost like a dungeon now–and she shivered in the cold, dimly-lit room.  
  
Suddenly, a stun grenade detonated, temporarily blinding her. She felt someone grab her roughly and push her against the wall, binding her wrists behind her back. A tall, lean body pressed against her and strong, familiar hands gripped her hips. His stubble tickled her neck as he nuzzled and nipped at her earlobe, sending shivers down her spine. He pressed his lips to her ear, and she heard a familiar voice purr, “I love it when a [target](https://soundcloud.com/allsoundsasscreed/target) comes to me.”  
  
She only had time to grin before he pulled the blindfold over her eyes and everything went dark.


	2. Besieged

She felt a rush of cold air on her face as Arno led her out of the club room and into one of the many tunnels under the Cafè. His hands were on her hips as he followed behind and guided her. She knew where they were going, of course–they’d made the trip through the tunnels to Arno’s room countless times.  _Sometimes we don’t quite make it all the way, though.._. She smirked as she remembered the occasions that Arno had picked her up and fucked her roughly against the tunnel wall.  
  
Arno stopped them, and she knew they must be at the staircase that led up to his room. His hands slipped underneath her chemise and waistcoat and brushed against her bare skin. He sucked and bit at the curve of her neck, making her moan and shiver with anticipation. Her skin was always responsive to his touch, and the blindfold made it even more sensitive. His breath on her neck, the gentle scrape of his nails on her sides–every touch he gave her was like lightning on her skin. She moaned and whimpered softly, yearning for more.

“I missed you, Y/N. We have a lot of catching up to do,” Arno purred, his voice low and rough with lust. He held her bound wrists and pulled her arms up to make her bend at the waist, her back in a deep arch that caused her pelvis to curve invitingly outward. He ran two of his fingers in between her legs, up and down the center seam of her tight breeches. She gasped and tried to thrust her hips backwards toward him, desperate for more contact.  
  
“Your ass is perfect. I love when you bend over for me,” Arno murmured. He hummed appreciatively as he admired the curves of her hips and ass. He loved fucking her in this position, especially while holding onto her wrists, pulling her hair, or gripping her hips. Sometimes, he’d set a rough, fast pace that left her screaming and pleasantly sore; other times, he’d slide in and out so slowly that she would mewl and squirm and beg until he finally let her come. Arno  _loved_  to make her beg. She wondered what he had planned for this…  _reunion_  of theirs.  
  
Arno didn’t make her wonder for long. He slid a hand down the front of her breeches and felt the wetness between her lips. She moaned as he slid his fingers along her slit and began tracing slow circles around her clit. Arno’s body covered hers: his chest rested lightly on her back; his arm wrapped around her as he teased her clit; and his hard cock pressed against her ass. His breath on her neck made her shiver, and he let out a soft groan as she shuddered against his erection.  
  
Arno quickened his pace, rubbing her clit with the pads of his fingers and occasionally dipping his fingertips into her opening to spread her wetness. Her skin was slick, and his fingers glided easily across her throbbing clit. She moved her hips with him as much as she could, panting and sighing as she felt the pressure build in her center. Arno slipped two fingers inside of her, sliding them in and out roughly as he purred into her ear.   
  
“You are so tight and wet for me. It’s been a long time for you, too, hasn’t it?” He rubbed her clit with his thumb while he hooked his fingers inside her and stroked her g-spot. His voice was a low, velvety growl. “When we get to my room, I’m going to bury my face in your cunt and tease you until you beg me to fuck you. And then, I’m going to slide my cock slowly into you, inch by inch, so you can feel your tight little cunt stretch around me…”  
  
Arno’s filthy words pushed her over the edge. She cried out his name as her orgasm washed over her, her cunt pulsing and tightening around his fingers. He kissed and nuzzled her neck gently as she came, still working his fingers slowly inside her. He held her until she was still, and she knew he was relishing the way her entire body tensed and relaxed in his arms. She whimpered softly as he slowly slid his fingers out of her and helped her stand upright. Arno untied her wrists, turned her around, and kissed her deeply as he slid the blindfold off her face. She opened her eyes, and, upon seeing him for the first time in a month, kissed him again, hungrily sucking at his bottom lip and tangling her hands in his hair underneath his hood.

“Pace yourself, Mademoiselle. This was just the apéritif.”

Arno grinned mischievously at her, then scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder. He started up the stairs to his room, giving her ass a hard, playful smack that echoed through the tunnel.


	3. Bombarded

Arno carried her across the threshold into his room. She looked around, confused, as he walked past his bed. He pitched her back over his shoulder and sat her down gently on the surface of his desk. He stepped back and she raked her gaze down his body, lingering on some of her favorite features. She admired his lips and jaw, tried to catch a glimpse of his neck beneath his red cravat, and stared at his hips.

Arno’s tight breeches were tucked into a pair of thick military boots that rose above his knees, and she had to fight the urge to leap off the desk and straddle his thick, toned thighs. Arno had worn them on purpose. He knew she loved the way he looked in that particular ensemble, and he knew what wearing it would do to her, especially after they’d spent so much time apart. He was teasing her. She couldn’t give in—if she was too aggressive, he’d draw out the game and tease her until it was unbearable.  _Besides_ , she mused,  _I’ll be home for a while. There will be plenty of opportunities for me to ride out my frustration._

Arno gave her a predatory smile as he lowered his hood. “Spread your legs.”

She did as he commanded. Arno stepped toward her and stood between her thighs as he took off his belt, blade, and bracers, leaning over her to place them on the desk. He stood up slowly, lightly grazing his rough cheek against her neck. She shivered, feeling the heat slowly build between her legs. Arno shrugged gracefully out of his coat and waistcoats and draped them over the back of a chair before untying his cravat and sliding it off of his neck. She watched him intently. Arno had tied her up with his cravat so many times that just seeing him take it off made her heart race. Her breath hitched in anticipation as he leaned in close. He reached past her and placed the cravat on the desk next to her, gently brushing her thigh as he pulled his hand away. She huffed in frustration, and he smirked at her.

Arno deftly unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor. She stared at him hungrily, admiring the way the muscles in his chest and shoulders flexed as he undressed.  Arno’s torso was a work of art, seemingly sculpted to attract her gaze and draw it downward. His chest and shoulders were broad and toned, but not bulky. His abs were taut, adorned with a line of dark hair that started at his navel and dipped down into his breeches. She could  _just_  make out the tops of the deep curves that cut into his hips and slanted downward in a “V”—she smiled as she appreciated the way  _everything_ seemed to point straight down at his cock. She loved following those lines with her mouth, biting, licking, and sucking her way down his hips and stomach as he moaned eagerly…

“Stand up.” Arno’s authoritative tone snapped her out of her daze. She stood up in front of him, willing herself to look into his eyes instead of at his body. Arno put his hands on her waist; she could feel the warmth radiating off of him as he leaned in close to her.

“Do you remember what I said in the tunnel? About what I was going to do once we arrived?” he whispered. His voice was velvety and seductive and confident; the sound of it sent shocks of arousal straight to her core.

“Ooh, yes. I remember,” she purred softly into his ear. She added a slight edge to her tone as she continued, “You  _said_  you would make me beg for your cock.” She looked at him with a hint of defiance in her eyes. Oh, she had no doubt that he  _would_  make her beg—she just loved how he reacted to being challenged.

Arno held her face firmly in one hand, forcing her to look at him as he growled, “And I will. Imminently.”

He thrust his hips roughly against hers, pinning her between his body and the desk. Arno pulled her into an aggressive kiss, biting on her bottom lip as he opened her hooded frock coat and unbuttoned her waistcoat and shirt. She arched her back so he could slide them off with ease to reveal her modified corset. He patted her down, removing knives and darts from the pockets she’d added—items she could use to cut through anything he might use to bind her. Arno traced his thumbs under the waistband of her breeches as he grabbed her hips and sat her back down onto the edge of the desk. He pulled a chair up to the desk and sat down, spreading her legs and placing them on the arm rests so she was straddling him again.

He slid his hands up her boots, dragging his fingertips up her legs as he leaned toward her. She shuddered as his hands crept up and over her knees. He gripped her thighs, his head poised between her knees as he looked up into her eyes and gave her a sinister grin. He pushed her thighs apart as wide as he could and began nuzzling her inner thigh. She moaned as she felt his breath through the fabric of her breeches and strained her hips towards him. He nuzzled and bit his way toward her sex, paused briefly just in front of it, and resumed nipping and nuzzling her opposite thigh. She whined in frustration as her cunt throbbed and ached.

“Yes? Did I miss something important?” he teased her.

Arno pulled off her boots, gliding his hands sensuously down her legs. She moaned softly as he slid his hands up her thighs and began unbuttoning her breeches. She lifted herself off the desk just enough to help him pull them off.

She placed her bare feet back onto the chair’s arm rests, her legs splayed open before him. She felt vulnerable and powerful all at once. Sitting in the chair, Arno was eye-level with her cunt; she was sure he could see how wet and aroused she was, and she groaned as she felt his breath glide softly over her wet skin.

“Arno…” she pleaded, her voice hoarse and desperate.

She didn’t need to say anything else. Arno gripped her hips and held her against the desk as he dipped down and gave her a slow, broad lick across her cunt. He lapped slowly at her opening, giving her long, languorous strokes as she panted and squirmed beneath him. She tried to thrust her hips up to meet him, wanting him to go faster, but he tightened his grip on her hips and held her down.

Arno pressed his face against her sex as he lapped slowly at her opening and nuzzled her clit gently with his nose. He sucked gently on her lips, grazing his teeth against them lightly as he continued to drag his tongue up and down her cunt. She gripped the edge of the desk, tilting her head back and groaning. He was still going at an agonizingly slow pace, and she could feel her frustration building. She groaned as her body shuddered involuntarily against his face with every slow, careful lick he gave her.

Arno looked into her eyes as he dragged his tongue slowly up her cunt and took her clit into his mouth. He sucked on it gently as he darted his tongue across her sensitive bud, finally starting to pick up the pace. His dark stubble scraped against her sex as he laved her clit, and she moaned his name as she tangled her fingers in his hair. He grinned and moaned against her, tracing quick, tight circles around her clit with his tongue as he slid two fingers into her. He hooked his digits and worked them inside her as he licked and sucked at her sensitive, swollen clit.

She could feel her orgasm building. She tried grinding against him again, whimpering pathetically when he continued to hold her hips still. The simpering moans that escaped her lips sounded unlike any noise she had ever made. She felt Arno shiver with arousal as she whined, “Please, Arno…”

He pumped his fingers roughly in and out of her and finally allowed her to move her hips with him. His stubble grazed roughly against her clit as she ground against his face and fingers. She panted and moaned as her whole body tensed in preparation of her release. She was  _so close_ …

Arno pulled away and leaned back in the chair, smirking wickedly as he denied her the tiny push she needed to fall over the edge. She let out a desperate sob as her orgasm was ripped away from her, her clit throbbing from over- and under-stimulation. She looked down at him, her legs still spread wide on the arm rests.

Her voice was a low, throaty whisper. “Arno, please…”

He raised an eyebrow, prompting her to continue.


	4. Subdued

“Arno…?” she groaned. She trembled, her nerves raw from the denied orgasm.

“Yes?” Arno looked at her expectantly as he picked the cravat up off of the desk and began to play with it.

“Please,” she whined again, unable to find the words she needed. She gulped as he idly tied the cravat into knots. He was toying with her.  

“I can’t help you until you tell me what it is that you want from me,” he said matter-of-factly.

Her voice cracked as the words spilled incoherently from her mouth. “ _Fuck_. Please, Arno. I was… I almost… I  _need_  you in me.  _Please_ , Arno. Fuck me.”

His lips quirked into a half-smile. Arno slid the cravat between his fingers, and she choked back a moan.

“I am  _begging_  you,” she pleaded. “I need your cock, Arno. Please. I want to feel every inch of you inside of me. I  _need_  you to fuck me.”

Arno stopped playing with the cravat. In one fluid movement, he tied it tightly around her wrists, spun her around, and bent her over the desk. He held her in place with a firm hand on the back of her neck. She heard a faint pop as he unbuttoned his breeches with his other hand; she felt the firm pressure of his cock against her opening and moaned as he traced the head up and down her wet slit.

“Is  _this_ —“ he pushed gently against her cunt, “what you want?”

“Yes! Please, Arno,” she begged.

“Will you challenge me again? Do you still doubt that I can make you beg?” The tip of his cock parted her opening slightly. She moaned pathetically, arching her back as she tried in vain to slide him in further.

“No. Never again,” she croaked.

It was a lie. She loved being pushed to her limits. She craved it—being broken down into a simpering mess, being made to beg—she would  _never_  stop challenging him as long as  _this_  was the consequence. 

She could hear his grin as he spoke. “I don’t believe you… but since you’ve asked me so nicely, I suppose I should give you what you want.”

Arno arched his hips and slowly sank his cock into her. She moaned as her cunt stretched around him. He thrust his hips slowly, pulling out to the head before sliding back in again in a slow, but forceful, rhythm. Her eyes fluttered shut and she groaned as she felt his cock penetrate her and withdraw, over and over, inch by inch.

Arno increased his rhythm, pumping his cock in and out of her. She pushed back eagerly on him, enjoying the sounds of his hips smacking against her body. She moaned as she felt the pressure build in her center. He gripped her hips and thrust more forcefully into her; a few books fell off the shelves as the desk crashed against the wall. Arno swore loudly, then stopped thrusting and pulled out slowly. She whimpered and pouted at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

“Patience,” he warned as he kissed her neck. “I can’t let a book fall on your head and knock you unconscious… come here.”

Arno scooped her up sideways, cradling her shoulders and legs as she draped her arms around his neck, her wrists still tied together with his cravat. He put her down gently next to his bed and maneuvered behind her. He slid his fingers up her back and began to untie her corset. She hummed softly as she felt his fingers pull and slide the laces across her skin and through the grommets. Arno untied the shoulder straps and slid the corset off. He turned her around, smiling as he admired her naked body.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured softly.

He took a step back from her, kicked off his tall boots, and slid out of his breeches. She grinned widely as she gazed at the lines that jutted into his hips and glimpsed the curve of his high, tight ass when he turned to drop his breeches onto the floor. His impressive cock was standing hard at attention and pointing toward her.

Arno pulled her close to him, shivering slightly as his erection became trapped between their bodies. He held her face as he leaned in for a deep kiss; his tongue parted her lips and slipped into her mouth. She moaned into the kiss and brushed her tongue against his. He sucked on her bottom lip briefly before pulling back. He kept his hands on her face.

“Get onto the bed, and sit on your knees,” he instructed. She climbed onto the mattress and sat back on her heels; once she was settled, he followed, leaning against the headboard. Arno gripped his cock and teased a few strokes as he considered his next move; she moaned longingly as she watched him.

“Come here,” he beckoned, patting his muscular thighs. She crawled toward him, straddling his lap while his hand slid up and down the length of his cock. Her cunt throbbed as Arno touched himself and grunted softly. He looked into her eyes.

“Would you like to ride me, Y/N?” he said as he squeezed the head of his cock.

“Yes, Arno,” she purred.

He quirked his lips into a satisfied smirk. “Good. I want to watch you as you buck your hips and slide up and down on my cock. Your hands will remain tied together. If you do a good job, I will let you come. Do you understand?”

She nodded eagerly, raising her hips up as he held his cock steady at her opening. She sank down onto him, moaning as she buried him inside her. She looped her hands over his head and held onto the headboard for leverage as she raised herself up and sank back down on him again, moaning as she felt his hard cock sliding in and out of her.

Arno groaned. “You are always _such a_   _tight fit…_ ”

She arched her back and began to roll her hips as she thrust, dragging her clit against his pelvis. Her breasts bounced in Arno’s face, and she gasped and moaned as her nipples brushed against his stubble. She gripped the headboard and thrust harder against him, bucking and rolling her hips wildly against his thick cock. She rode him hard, her whole body sliding up and down on him as she rapidly approached orgasm.

“Arno,” she gasped, “May I…?”

Arno groaned and held onto her hips, his breath hitching as his head fell back against the headboard. He gripped her hips tightly and pulled her down onto him as she rode him, thrusting his hips up to meet hers. She dug her fingers into his hair as she rolled her hips one more time, tightening her grip as her orgasm tore through her. She screamed his name and moaned loudly as her cunt tightened and pulsed on his cock. She shuddered as waves of pleasure racked her body, and it felt as though all of her energy was shooting out of her fingers.

She slowed her pace, but Arno continued to rock her hips back and forth. She moaned as he dragged his broad cock in and out of her, building up to his own release. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled her onto her back, holding her hips up off the bed as he pounded into her. She mewled in pleasure, pleading incoherently and whimpering his name over and over as a familiar knot began to tighten again in her center. He dug his fingertips into her hips as he thrust into her harder, and she cried out as she came apart again on his cock, tears streaming down her cheeks. Arno laid her hips down on the mattress, pressing her leg against her chest as he drove into her with deep, forceful thrusts. He held her wrists down above her head and keened his hips into her one more time, groaning loudly as he shuddered and came inside her.

He collapsed on top of her and buried his face in the crook of her neck as his body continued to tense and then finally stilled. She giggled, shivered, and moaned as Arno’s heavy sighs and stubble scraped against the curve of her neck. Arno grinned and gave her neck a gentle kiss before untying her wrists and then sliding his cock slowly out of her. She groaned—and then grinned—as she thought about how bruised and sore she’d probably be for the next few days. He rolled onto his back and pulled her against him, kissing her tenderly. He played with her hair softly and she sighed, stroking his cheek as she nibbled on his bottom lip.

She looked up at him, giggling softly as he wiped a tear off of her cheek. He gave her a lopsided grin as he beamed, “Welcome home, ma chouette.”

She grinned mischievously as she ran her fingertips down his chest and traced a gentle circle around his navel. “If this is the welcome I can look forward to when I come home, I’m going to go away more often.”

Arno huffed and swatted her behind playfully. “No, I am never letting you leave again.”

She laughed. “Oh? How will you stop me?”

He leaned in, nibbling her earlobe as he purred, “I’ll make it worth your while to stay.”

She shivered happily as she nestled against his chest and grinned up at him. “I have no doubt.”


End file.
